


Triage

by ThroughTheTulips



Series: SPN Season 10 Choose Our Own Adventure Series [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Choose Your Own Adventure, pre-destiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-14
Updated: 2014-06-14
Packaged: 2018-02-04 14:25:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1782274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThroughTheTulips/pseuds/ThroughTheTulips
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Team Free Will Minus Dean visits Missouri Moseley. She has help to offer, but not what they asked for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Triage

**Author's Note:**

> Excuse the stiffness here, people.. it's hard to get into the swing when even I'm not sure where the story's going.

Where should TFWMD (Team Free Will Minus Dean) go now?  
Tumblr chose: Visit Missouri Mosely. Seriously, how have they not been talking to her this whole time?  
************************************************

            It was tempting to go after Cain. This was all his fault. He did this to Dean, gave him the Mark when he could have killed Abaddon himself. Sam wanted to know why. The memory of Missouri caught at him, though, and his hunches were usually good. He sat up a little straighter and said, “It’s probably best if we talk to Missouri first. The bunker library is huge, I could spend a month there and still not find anything to help Dean. Cas, would it help if I told you where she was last?”

            The angel passed a water bottle over the seat. “It makes no difference. Hannah has already located her at her home in Lawrence.”

            “Lawrence it is,” Bobby said, turning left. “Finish your dinner, boy. You’re too big to catch if you faint.”

            Castiel twisted around. His frown returned. “You have not eaten since breakfast,” he said accusingly. “Why would you skip lunch?”

            “We were tracking Metatron, remember?” Sam reached for the take-out containers sitting in the footwell. “It’s not like I intentionally didn’t eat.”

            “I promised Dean I would take care of you, Sam.”

            The hunter almost snapped that he could take care of himself, but something in Castiel’s face stopped him. He picked up the bitten-into half of his sandwich. “Eating. See?”

            “Hand that burger up front while you’re at it,” Bobby said. “No sense letting it go to waste.” He met Sam’s eyes in the rearview, letting him know he’d also heard the strain in Cas’s voice. “Cas, you want some of these fries?”

            Castiel watched the road as though afraid they were being followed. “I am not so diminished that I require food.”

            “And it would only taste like molecules, right?” Sam was going for a teasing tone. By the ghost of a smile on Cas’s face he’d succeeded. Relieved, Sam dug into his belated dinner.

            The ride to Lebanon took a little over four hours. Bobby was freshly raised and Cas didn’t need sleep, so Sam felt safe nodding off in the backseat. He woke as they were pulling off the highway. “You need directions from here?”

            “I knew Missouri Moseley before I knew your father,” Bobby said wryly. “Cas here’s girlfriend-”

            “Sister,” Castiel corrected. “Hannah is my sister.”

            The old hunter chuckled. “Just winding you up, son. Cas’s _sister_ says Missouri is still home. Makes sense as it’s not even eight in the morning.”

            Sure enough, morning sunlight slanted in the windows. A small part of Sam resented it. How could the sun be so bright, so warm and yellow when his brother was walking around with black eyes? “Should we call ahead? Maybe she won’t be up yet.”

            “For someone who doesn’t see the future she’s got a way of knowing when guests are coming. I never call her and she’s always got tea ready.” Bobby glanced in the mirror and snorted. “You got a hairbrush or something, princess? We could stop and buy you some ribbons if you need ‘em.”

            The familiar banter, something he hadn’t had with Dean since Gadreel, eased Sam’s foul mood enough for him to grin back. “Jealous, Bobby?” He dug out the comb he kept in his jacket. By the time they got to the neat little house he was more or less presentable. He slid out of the backseat, stretching. “Okay, I call driver next. There is not enough room in this monstrosity for me to sit in back.”

            “Shotgun.” Both hunters turned to stare at Castiel, surprised. He shrugged one shoulder. “Dean explained your tradition of “dibs”. He said that if I found myself in contention for the passenger seat I should say ‘shotgun’.”

            Bobby’s face twisted as though he was trying not to laugh. He clapped the angel on the shoulder. “Good to have you back in your right head, Cas.”

            “It’s good to have you back at all,” Cas said sincerely. “I apologize for being… for letting you be-”

            “You’re not our personal fix-it service,” the man cut in, uncomfortable. “A leviathan killed me, end of story. Can we save the tea and sympathy for later?”

            The front door opened. Missouri Moseley, a little thinner than he remembered with a touch of gray at her temples, beckoned them inside. “You can save the sympathy, but I’ve got tea and breakfast now.”

            “Told ya,” Bobby muttered.

            Sam made a face at him. “Thanks, but I just ate before we left.”

            “You’ll eat again,” she said, giving him a stern look. “I don’t hear from you for almost a decade and you show up looking like death? You’ll eat again.”

            He ducked his head and climbed the stairs. When she reached to take his hand he jerked back. “Uh, you might not want to do that. My head isn’t really a nice place to be right now.”

            Missouri’s expression softened. “Oh honey, don’t you think it’s easier if I just get the whole story from you now?”

            “Easier on me, but Missouri, I’ve had… do you know what a vessel is?”

            “Who do you think it was that told your father? I know about your dance with the devil, and believe you me I’m not planning to spy on what all he did to you.” She huffed out an impatient breath. “Every now and then you need to lean on someone, Sam Winchester, and I’ve got broad shoulders. Come on over here.”

            He moved before he could overthink it. Missouri took his hand and pulled him into a hug. A little tremor ran through her. She patted his back, squeezing a little as she let go. “Well, now. I’m sorry about your brother, Sam. Come in and have some breakfast while I think all this over.” The smile she gave Castiel was the same she’d given Bobby, warm and accepting. “Hello there. I’ve met two of your family this past year, Eremiel and Nuriel. They thought highly of you, and I see you’ve done all right by my boys. You’re welcome here in my house, understand?”

            Cas looked poleaxed. Bobby sighed gave him a little nudge forward. “Thanks for having us. One burger four hours ago is wearing kinda thin.”

            Missouri must have had more than a few minutes’ warning. A huge breakfast waited for them: pancakes, scrambled eggs with cheese, a mountain of bacon, a bowl of home fries, toast and jelly. Sam’s stomach growled, making him flush. “Maybe I haven’t been eating enough lately,” he admitted, picking up a plate.

            Bobby stabbed three pancakes and dropped them on Sam’s plate. “You were eating like a bird before I died. Doesn’t look like you’ve changed.”

            “Birds eat several times their own weight daily.” Castiel took a spoonful of jelly and spread it on a pancake. “Sam has been eating the minimum needed to-” He stopped, tilting his head. “Ah. It was a figure of speech.”

            Sam laughed at Bobby’s expression. “Yeah, you did miss a few things. Let me fill you in.”

            They lingered over breakfast. Sam and Castiel took turns catching Bobby up, filling him in on Purgatory and the Men of Letters and the fallout from the gate closing spells. In return Bobby told them stories from upstairs. Heaven seemed to agree with everyone there; they spent most of their time reliving good days and watching those they’d left behind.

“It’s kinda hard to explain,” he said, sipping a third cup of coffee. “We watched you, but it didn’t seem important. Like watching a TV show. Then one day this angel shows up, says I’m wanted downstairs, and next thing I know I’m waking up to Crowley’s ugly face outside the diner.”

            Missouri came in from the living room. She refilled her tea cup and turned to lean on the counter. “Sam, I’m sorry. I don’t know anything off the top of my head that can take the Mark of Cain from Dean.”

            Her words, spoken softly but brutally plain, cut into Sam. The relative mellowness of the last hour disappeared. He pushed back from the table, gathering the dirty dishes. “Thank you for trying, Missouri. Really, we appreciate it. Is there anything you need done around the house, or-”

            “Boy, sit back down. I didn’t say I couldn’t help you at all.” She glared him back into his chair. “Looks like you didn’t learn any patience in ten years.”

            Her disapproval made Sam’s ears burn. He folded his hands, musing that if the angels had thought to win her over first the Apocalypse would have gone off without a hitch. “Sorry. I’m just- Dean is my priority right now.”

            “And what about your angel friend here?”

            Castiel looked up from the remains of his sandwich. “Dean is also my priority.”

            “I’ll bet he is, sugar, but I meant you.” Missouri sipped her tea. “I saw your little grace problem in Sam’s head. That’s something I can handle.”

            Surprise had Sam jumping back to his feet. “You can fix him?”

            “Sam, I am not more important than saving Dean,” the angel protested.

            Bobby’s hand shot you and smacked the angel upside the back of his head. “Dean ain’t dying, idjit. You are. Triage says we take care of you first.”

            “Dean said it himself, Cas,” Sam added. “You’re family. If Missouri can help we should do this.”

            “There’s no ‘if’ about it. Those brothers of yours taught me a lot of things while they were staying here, some they meant and some by accident. I’ve been finding corners of knowledge they left lying around for months. There are two ways I know of to handle this. We can drain what grace you have left into something and leave you a human. That way I know will work.” Missouri set her cup down. “If that doesn’t work for you, I know there’s a way to gather your own grace back up now the spell’s not using it anymore. That way- well, I’m not sure you’d survive it. We’d be counting on there being enough of it to recharge but not so much it kills you before it can heal your vessel.”

            Castiel’s expression wavered between hope and skepticism. “My body. Jimmy went to Heaven the first time we died. I am the sole occupant of this form now, so it’s my body.”

            “All the more reason to be careful.”

            The angel turned his napkin over, thinking. “Perhaps we could do that later, after we’ve tried to help Dean. I have time. Your talents could expedite the research, Miss Moseley.”  
*********************************************************  
  
Choices, choices, so many choices. What’s TMWMD’s next course of action?  
  
1) Try to drain the grace from Castiel. Human is better than dead, and maybe they can find his grace later.

2) Look for Castiel’s grace now. He needs to be powered up in case Dean goes Darkside, and it probably won’t kill him… right?

3) Take Missouri to see Cain. She can try to read his mind and see if he knows a way to remove the Mark.

4) Stay at Missouri’s for a day arguing over it. You need consensus and you’re not getting it.

5) Summon Crowley and try to threaten him into helping.

6) Something else (be specific)

Voting is closed on this.

**Author's Note:**

> Vote for your choice here: https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1KgIFg4jp72jRCngzeEneA0z2GOx4sJMxRsnYd1eVMCA/viewform?usp=send_form


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